


Rebirth in the shadows of Dathomir

by lunaemoth



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dathomir (Star Wars), Gender Issues, Intersex, Misgendering, Nightsisters (Star Wars), Reincarnation, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: Obi-Wan was dead, one with the Force and at peace, when he was ripped from it and shoved into a tiny body once again.On Dathomir. Among the Nightsisters. Fifty years in the past.
Relationships: Dooku & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul
Comments: 66
Kudos: 843
Collections: Jedi Journals





	Rebirth in the shadows of Dathomir

**Author's Note:**

> I had this strange idea turning in my head for days so I had to get rid of it and write it down.  
> [Arboreal](https://arboreal-elm-ash-oak.tumblr.com/) has kindly accepted to beta this for me, thank you!
> 
>  **Trigger warning:** beware of misgendering issues if it bothers you.

Of his second birth, Obi-Wan would only know what he had been told: his birth mother, Kori, had lost her weak and malformed infant to a fever. Mad with grief, she had used magick to resuscitate the babe, but even the Nightsisters’ magick had a price: a death for a life. Kori’s infant had started breathing again, and she... had stopped. 

He conjectured that Kori had not truly resuscitated her baby and rather dragged a spirit from the Force to possess the body. Certainly, that was what it had felt like for Obi-Wan: he had been one with the Force, truly and completely, until he had been pulled away from it, the Dark side getting its claws into him and tearing him from peaceful eternity.

The Nightsisters had hated him, for many reasons, but the first was that he wouldn’t stop crying for several days.

Wouldn’t they, in his place, if they had been dragged out of a paradise (it had felt like it to Obi-Wan, to be truly One with the Force) to be thrown into Dathomir, which might as well be hell for a Jedi?

He had stopped once he had resigned himself to this new nasty trick of fate. Crying didn’t help. In an eleven-month-old body, he watched and learned instead.

Being raised by the Nightsisters was an experience unlike anything he had ever lived, but the antagonism and ambivalence were only a surprise when he realized he was the only child treated thus. Of course, the girls were treated better than the boys, but there were clear and fair expectations for them all. Whereas, he felt like he was treated like one or the other depending on the day and the Nightsister. He understood why when he was three.

The Force had a mean sense of humor sometimes, and it seemed like Obi-Wan’s curse (or one of the many) was to be followed by Maul, wherever he went. He had killed the Zabrak twice, and yet, he was still there, looking for a fight once again.

The boy wasn’t much younger than Obi-Wan, but he was larger (this time). His birth name wasn’t Maul, a name granted to him by Sidious, but Wild. Mother Talzin showed a great lack of imagination in her sons’ names.

They were in a playground. Obi-Wan had been trying to resolve a dexterity puzzle to train his stubby fingers to a satisfying level, when the red Zabrak walked up to him, radiating anger and determination. Obi-Wan watched him approach, wary but disinterested. 

“Let’s fight,” the boy demanded.

Obi-Wan looked back to his toy. “No, thank you.”

It wasn’t the first time the request had been made. Play-fighting was a common part of the Nightsisters and Nightbrothers' education. How uncivilized. Obi-Wan wanted nothing to do with this practice. Wild had never insisted before, he had other kids to play with, and Obi-Wan was known as the weird one for a reason. He wasn’t worth it.

Or he hadn’t been, until now, apparently.

Wild grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him to his feet. His little fist rose threateningly. Obi-Wan blinked. He had been bullied during his first childhood already, he could do without a repeat, thank you very much.

“I said, no,” he said calmly.

Wild struggled to strike. His fist was frozen, surrounded by green smoke, which he stared at with fear. He dropped Obi-Wan, took two steps back, and fell to his knees. “Forgive me, Sister!” 

Obi-Wan grumbled but didn’t comment. It was the local culture to consider that those using magick were Nightsisters. It wasn’t his place to criticize their customs.

“You were right, Mother.”

He glanced over his shoulder to find that several adults had been watching, including Mother Talzin. He wouldn’t put it past the woman to have pushed her son to annoy him for her own purposes.

“The child is a Nightsister,” Talzin concluded with the satisfaction of someone proved right. “She shall be known as Kenori.”

Obi-Wan scowled. Of course, this was all about his gender. He had noticed that there seemed to be an issue with his genitals. They were quite… ambiguous, even for a child. However, since he was at peace with his own masculinity, he hadn’t cared. It was only a bother when he went to pee. Trust a Nightsister and their strict binary division of gender to make a fuss about it. They must have been bothered by it since his birth. That explained a few things and comments.

“Did you hear me, child?” Talzin insisted, staring at him. “Who are you?”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, looking back at his toy, but Talzin teleported in front of him and pulled him up harshly by the arm.

“I asked you a question,” she said, warningly.

Obi-Wan winced at the pain. He was tempted to ignore her and all of this nonsense. He didn’t need anyone to tell him who he was. Unfortunately, this body was still too young and delicate for rebellious stubbornness and running away. He had learned what he could get away with around Mother Talzin and this, he was sure, wasn't included. It also wasn't worth the pain. He knew so many languages and cultures in which gender was fluid or a non-issue, and it was a mindset he could adopt. He supposed he’d have to bear with it all… temporarily. 

“Kenori,” he repeated without a care. In her attempt to honor her mother, Talzin had done him a favor: Kenori didn’t sound very different from Kenobi. With a little imagination, he could pretend that they were just calling him by his last name… Yes, that would do.

The Nightsisters were a little more tolerable once he had been forced into one of their little boxes. He was one of them, although a strange and annoying one, and thus he was treated correctly… as long as he didn’t misstep and showed a hint that he could be a Nightbrother.

He didn’t see much more of Wild after that. At three years old, the boys left their mothers to be sent to the Nightbrothers village. That’s why ‘Kenori’ had to go through this silly moment to ‘determine’ his gender.

Kenori learned the Nightsisters’ secrets with great reluctance. Dathomir was extremely disagreeable to him, but he had no choice but to bear with it. The Nighsisters’ use of the Dark Side and their magick ichor, while very different from the Sith’s techniques, still felt slimy to the Jedi he was at his core. He tended to favor his old habits, which the Nightsisters viewed with distrust.

Mother Talzin and he had more than a few heated discussions, but that was one subject that he wouldn't back down on. He would continue to practice his Jedi katas and meditation, and if that bothered them, he'd just hide when he did so. He received more punishments than all the other young Sisters combined. Unfortunately for Talzin, she also had to recognize that he was the most talented and powerful of them all. 

In a few words, the cohabitation was still… tense.

Kenori was six when Sidious came to Dathomir. While he had been expecting it, he still hid from the Sith, from fear of his own reaction as much as Sidious’.

Early the second day of his presence, after Sidious had spent half of the night talking to Talzin, Kenori went to find her.

“Don’t listen to him, he’ll betray you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, child.”

It was a familiar exchange, one that happened rarely but inevitably went the same way. The Nightsisters and Nightbrothers in attendance watched with bated breath as Kenori held out an imperious hand and Mother Talzin ignored it. He had infinite patience, however, and Talzin knew she couldn’t win. She sighed and took the child’s hand, bracing for the vision that inevitably followed. Her eyes rolled upwards and she stumbled back, unprepared for the violence of the future thrust upon her. She had to sit down, grabbing into the arms of her chair, her breath short and fast.

“My son?!” she hissed. “He’d prefer my own son to me and take him away from me!” She hurled curses at the Sith and stood up, shouting to her subalterns: “Take him out! Chase him out! Throw him to the rancors! To the spiders! Bring me his head!”

While Obi-Wan had no illusions regarding Sidious’ death, he found the ensuing chase extremely entertaining. Finding a good view on a cliff, he watched as the Nightbrothers and Nightsisters attacked Sidious as he made his way to the village. He tried to stand his ground at first, and he’d have won easily against the Nightbrothers, but he didn’t have the time yet to learn much about the Nightsisters’ magick. The Army of the Dead — the Nightsisters’ most powerful spell allowing them to call their dead sisters to their help — forced him to retreat. Kenori giggled as Darth Sidious, the dreaded Emperor, was chased back to his ship and forced to run away. 

He cherished the sight.

Lying on his stomach, propped on his elbows and swinging his legs, Obi-Wan heard a sound. He glanced to the side.

Wild froze at being caught. They hadn’t seen each other in two years, and Kenori wasn’t even sure the boy remembered him. He waited for an explanation to his presence.

“Mother Talzin said the stranger wanted to take me away.”

Kenori slowly swung his legs. “Yes.”

“She said you warned her.”

“Yes.”

“... Thank you.”

Kenori blinked before shrugging. “You’re welcome.” He hesitated before looking back at the dark form running away. “Do you want to watch with me?” He offered, pointing at the space by his side.

Wild nodded and crawled to lay next to him.

They giggled and jeered at Sidious together.

When Sidious’ ship rose and turned its only canon toward the ground and then toward the cliffs in retaliation, they bolted together as well. Squealing in fright and the rush of running for their lives, they tumbled down the hidden steps carved into the cliff to the security of the hidden villages.

The bombing didn’t last long since the Nightsisters magick could both defend from and attack the ship. Sidious just wanted to make a point.

Kenori and Wild still arrived at the Nightsisters lair covered in dust and limping. Having helped each other along the way, Wild using his stronger and taller body, and Kenori the Force and magick, they were grinning and elbowing each other like good friends.

“I told you to duck,” Kenori teased him.

Maul rubbed his shoulder with a pout. “You could have used your magick.”

“Well, excuse me that I didn’t plan you’d throw yourself at me.”

“Your skin is thin, mine is tough,” he stated with a raised chin.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. Once upon a time, Kenori had been born with peach skin. The Nightsisters’ habit to favor the dark and their use of the magick tended to whiten and weaken the skin. Kenori’s beige was now a pale copy of Obi-Wan’s former skin tone. In comparison, the Nightbrothers’ tattoos made their skin tougher thanks to the magick imbued ink.

“Wild,” Mother Talzin called. “Go back to your village. Kenori, back to your lessons!”

Kenori scowled in annoyance at this reinforcement of the gender separation, but Wild left with barely a glance, submitting to his mother without question.

Kenori was eight when other strangers came to the village. The pirates, led by a Siniteen called Hal’Sted, had managed to appropriate a valuable artifact of the clan, stolen by rivals but vital to the Nightsisters’ magick. He offered an exchange. 

“I can’t use this artifact, it’s true, but it would fetch a good price among collectors, I’m sure. On the other hand, if you give me something — or someone — more useful than money…” Hal’Sted was saying, his eyes drifting to a Nightsister carrying her baby. The young woman drew back in fear.

Kenori stepped between them, standing tall to get his attention and holding his eyes. “What would you call useful? A child that would require years to be productive or knowledge you can apply by yourself?”

“What kind of knowledge are we talking about?” Hal’Sted asked, tilting his head curiously at the tiny thing standing up to him.

“The girl is a seer,” Talzin explained, catching on with Kenori’s idea.

“A seer? The kind who sees the future? Am I supposed to take your word for it?”

“You come from Rattatak, and you’ll go back there once you leave Dathomir,” Kenori offered to convince him of his knowledge.

The pirate hummed in interest. “Alright. Let’s pretend I believe in your little power. What do you have to tell me about the future that’s worth your little artifact, Seer?”

“Your death.”

Hal’Sted twitched. Like most mortals, his own death could scare him when little else did. “What about my death?”

“When, where, by who.”

“You’re saying I’ll be killed.”

“If you follow the path you’re on, yes.”

"I can avoid it?"

"Nothing is set in stone."

After a brief moment of hesitation, he crossed his arms defensively but nodded. “Alright. The artifact against that information, but you better be clear. No nebulous words trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

Mother Talzin took over to get a promise and proof of the pirate’s goodwill. Once she did, she nodded at Kenori who met Hal’Sted’s eager eyes.

“In eight years. On Rattatak. Shot by Weequay pirates.” He crossed his hands with an expectant expression asking a clear “Is that good enough for you?”

Hal’Sted took the news in and then kneeled to be at Kenori’s level. “Do you want to come with me, kiddo? I’d make you rich and powerful.”

“No, thank you,” Kenori replied politely before walking away. He planned on leaving Dathomir, but not now, and certainly not with a pirate to end up on Rattatak as a placeholder to Ventress.

Asajj’s mother followed after him. “Kenori!” Once he had stopped, she kneeled in front of him, still holding her baby. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget what you did. I’ll tell Asajj what we owe you.”

Kenori glanced at the baby curiously. Like Wild before her, the girl was so different from the Sith who had caused him so much pain that he could barely recognize her. He had long ago made his peace with what this new life brought him and the need to differentiate the children he would meet with the people they could grow into after a life of suffering. “It’s alright. You don’t owe me anything. We’re clan, right?”

The mother — Lasha, if he remembered right — smiled at him softly. He wondered how different Asajj would be, growing by her side. He hoped she would be happy. 

He enjoyed peace until he was seventeen. By then, he had made a rough plan of what he intended to do, but he needed to wait until this body was mature enough. He knew far too well how difficult life could be for someone young-looking without any protection alone in the galaxy. So he was biding his time.

Talzin wasn’t. 

Each year, the Nightbrothers participated in tournaments to prove their worth to the Nightsisters looking for potential mates. For two years now, Talzin had dragged Kenori to each tournament. While he appreciated a good competition and a show of athletic prowess, the Nightbrothers’ fights were too bloody and needlessly violent in his opinion. Civilized people could fight without making such a mess of their opponents. It was excessive. Thus, Kenori spent most of those days watching the beginning of each fight, since it was expected of him, and then being distracted by some detail or another in the crowd or around.

That day wasn’t any different. That fight wasn’t any different, except that Wild was participating. It was his first year in the adult competition. Before that, he was among the children, who only fought to subdue, not to draw blood (small mercies, at least).

Kenori didn’t act differently. He watched at the beginning, maybe a bit longer to determine how competent Wild was without the Sith training he had once received. He was rather good for his age. His opponent was older and bigger but not better. The public started screaming for blood, and Kenori’s attention was attracted by a small lizard climbing the rock wall beside him. 

Dathomir’s wildlife was fascinating. Kenori spent most of his free time observing it like he once did on Tatooine (except that Dathomir had much more diversity to offer, thank the Force).

“Kenori,” someone hissed by his side.

He hummed distractedly and turned toward Lasha. Asajj’s mother had become somewhat of a friend… his only friend to be honest. He spent a lot of time helping her with her daughter. It had bothered him at first, but it was hard to say no to the kind Lasha, and then he had just gotten used to it. Asajj was fond of him and thus was tolerable. She reminded him of a mix of Anakin and Ahsoka, but her demands for attention kept him too busy to be maudlin about it.

Right now, Mother Talzin was staring at him insistently. 

That was peculiar. While Talzin insisted he attended, she had never expected anything from him during the show before.

“Wild is the winner. Stalesh is asking him for a mate. Does any Nightsister want to compete for him?” Talzin asked pointedly.

Kenori blinked and glanced at the arena where Wild was indeed standing victorious with a sharp grin. Kenori looked at Stalesh. The Nightsister was at least eight years older and well known for going through mates like a rancor through lunch. Talzin had never intervened before though… but of course, Wild was her son. And Kenori was beginning to understand her insistence on bringing him. She wanted to match them. The strongest of the Nightsisters with her own son. Of course, that would be in her interest. It would tie Kenori to her and most importantly any child he would carry (no matter how unlikely that was), allowing Talzin to start a potential dynasty and strengthen her power.

Kenori's lips began to curl in disinterest. He would have looked away without speaking up if his distaste for Stalesh, her whole being, and her practices, wasn’t far beyond his wish to be left alone.

He sighed. Damn Talzin for knowing him so well.

“I wish for Wild as a mate,” he stated with a great lack of enthusiasm.

Talzin turned to Stalesh with a satisfied glint in her eyes. If the Nightsister maintained her claim, then they would have to fight for the right to mate the Nightbrother, and Kenori was annoyed by the prospect. Fortunately, Stalesh never bothered to fight for her claims: she’d rather take the easiest preys (like young brothers barely out of teenagehood).

Thus, Kenori ended up having to share his hut with Wild for a night. Wonderful.

Their trip back to his shack (a small space but private and secluded, which fit him perfectly well) was silent. Once inside, Kenori sat down on her mattress and watched the standing zabrak thoughtfully. They hadn’t seen each other from up close in more than ten years. Wild had grown just like Kenori remembered, although the lack of yellow eyes was definitely an improvement. Brown was such a better color.

“I suppose I should explain that while I asked for you, it was only to stop Stalesh from getting her claws on you, and I’m not interested in mating,” he commented. He glanced to the side in thought. “Mother Talzin owes me a favor now…”

“Why?” Wild asked, losing some of his impassivity in favor of shame. “Am I… not good enough for you?”

“Oh, no,” Kenori replied, blinking in surprise at the boy’s vulnerability. “It’s not about you. I’m just not interested in mating.”

Wild lost some of his tension but stayed cautious as he took a step closer. “Why not?”

There were so many reasons: they were too young, this body didn’t feel right, he had lost most of his interest for the matters of the flesh, Wild still reminded him too much of Maul… All were valid to Kenori, but none would be to Wild, and thus he didn’t share them, returning the question instead: “Why do you want to?”

“We’re expected to.”

“That hardly seems a good reason to do anything, even less mating.”

Wild scowled and went silent. 

Thinking he had won this argument, Kenori turned away to adjust his bed sheets and pillows.

“Because you’re pretty.”

Kenori glanced over his shoulder at Wild with disbelief. Had the boy hit his head during his fight? While Kenori couldn’t be called aesthetically displeasing, ‘pretty’ didn’t apply to him in any human or near-human civilizations he had ever met. Somehow, there must have been a little mishap in his genetics because his ambiguous genitals were now accompanied by androgenic features that gave him neither feminine nor masculine characteristics. His body was slender, his chest flat, his musculature thin, and his curves non-existent. He was a woman only by his status of Nightsister, and he was no warrior Nightbrother either. He certainly had no chance to grow a beard, which was quite displeasing. All he had in his favor were green eyes and dark hair he took great care of (no, he wasn’t compensating for the beard… or just a little).

Wild must have been aware of this because he scowled and insisted: “You are! To me…”

“Well… I’m flattered, I suppose, but aesthetical appeal is hardly enough.”

Wild bit his bottom lip, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and asked: “If it was, would you mate with me?”

Kenori blinked and then smiled slowly. “Are you asking me if I find you pretty?”

Wild made a sound of protest, crossed his arms, and looked away. 

Kenori chuckled, reminded of the boy he had teased and joked with years ago when they had avoided the cliff bombing. “Yes, Wild, you’re aesthetically pleasing.”

“G-good.”

“Now, come here. Let’s find a way to sleep comfortably.”

The following year, Kenori had to step in once again to save Wild from Stalesh. He had been expecting it, and Talzin just had to clear her throat for him to volunteer. They had an unofficial arrangement now. Talzin had stopped commenting on his Jedi habits. The peace and quiet were worth one night of discomfort in a bed too small for two.

Once they were alone in Kenori's hut, Wild went to his knees next to the bed. Kenori blinked at him in surprise, sitting down slowly. 

"May I offer you a massage?"

"No, thank you," Kenori replied warily. At the frustration and hesitation he felt from the teenager, Kenori sighed and asked: "Please, tell me you aren't trying to seduce or court me, or whatever this is."

Wild looked down at his knees. "The older Brothers said some Sisters prefered it that way."

"You talked to your br— No, nevermind, I don't want to know," Kenori muttered to himself, sliding a hand down his face. "Wild, I'm still not interested in sex or romance. We can be friends if you want." His spontaneous offer took him by surprise, but he had nothing against Wild-not-Maul. The boy was just very eager to please. Kenori could see how Sidious would have molded a young Wild into the bitter and angry Maul he had once known. Kenori wished better for this one, and he supposed he could help.

"A friend?" Maul repeated, baffled.

Indeed, a friendship between a Sister and a Brother was a strange idea around here, but Kenori shrugged. "That's all I'm willing to offer currently."

"Can a... friend, touch you?"

"Platonically, I would consider it." Kenori scooted over. "If we're to both fit on this bed, we have no choice on the matter anyway. Come on in now."

"Can I be the big spoon?" Maul asked as he rose and put a knee on the bed, watching Kenori with an eager look.

"I suppose the opposite would be awkward. You have still grown this last year."

"You're small."

"Now, don't tease me too much yet, I can still throw you out," Kenori pointed out with a good-natured curl to his lips.

"You wouldn't. We're friends," Wild replied proudly. His smile was endearing. 

Kenori sighed. "I have a feeling I might regret it." 

At twenty-two, Kenori was ready to leave Dathomir. The Force, as muddled as it was mixed with magick, warned him that the occasion would come. Soon.

It came, but not in a way or shape that Kenori expected and approved.

One night, the whole clan was awakened by an alarm and the guards calling: “The Sith! The Sith is back!”

Sidious. Of course, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

He wasn’t alone.

Kenori felt him before seeing him. Dooku. Not a Sith… not yet. This must be Sidious’ test for a potential apprentice. What better way to prove his worth and loyalty than to get him to wipe out the beings who had dared resist his Master? The irony of a possible massacre of the Nightsisters repeating itself wasn't lost on Kenori, and he didn't like it, at all. If he was to change this timeline, this alternate universe, or whatever this was, it wouldn't be for a repeat in different circumstances.

“Kenori!” Talzin called for him as they all ran out of the village to defend their territory. “Do you have anything to share?”

“The man with Darth Sidious. He may be used against him. We have to separate them!”

Talzin nodded in understanding and shouted orders to Sisters and Brothers. 

Running toward the stone maze leading to the only viable landing platform near the village, Kenori focused on Dooku’s Force signature. His shields were up tight, no emotions coming through, but there was no hint of the Dark Side in him, for now. Kenori had to take that into account. Dooku was one of the strongest duelists of the Jedi Order, while saber dueling wasn’t a specialty of Dathomir. If they wanted to win against Sidious, they needed Dooku on their side.

Footsteps made him glance to the side. Wild and his brother, Savage, were following him.

“Do not attack without my command,” Kenori demanded. The General he used to be was coming back to the fore in the midst of battle. “I want to turn him against Sidious. We need him.”

The Nightbrothers agreed, although without much enthusiasm at the idea of ‘needing’ a foreigner.

Their people successfully managed to separate Sidious and Dooku. Kenori led Wild and Savage into pushing Dooku further away from the Sith before stepping in. It was a different shock than meeting Maul and Ventress for the first time: Dooku looked just like he remembered.

Using magick, Kenori projected his voice through the stone tunnels:

“Master Jedi Dooku. Or should I say former Jedi? How peculiar to find you with your sworn enemy. Have you Fallen yet? It doesn’t seem so. Soon, I suppose. This must be Sidious’ goal, in bringing you here. Dathomir has brought more than a few Jedi to their knees, after all. You know this. Yet, you came.”

Dooku was cautious. He moved on slowly but steadily, attentive but not jittery. This was the Master Jedi once so respected that the Council couldn’t believe in his Fall. The Master that Obi-Wan had sometimes caught sight of in the Temple, impressed. The Master he had been briefly introduced to once, by Qui-Gon, only to be dismissed and to never see him again. Kenori felt conflicted at having the opportunity to properly meet him and observe him. Would the Force be so cruel to give him this opportunity only to see him Fall again? 

“You have me at a disadvantage,” Dooku commented calmly. “Who am I speaking with?”

Wrapping magick around him, Kenori teleported ahead of Dooku, out of his reach, but close enough that he could see his silhouette. “My name is Kenori,” he introduced himself before disappearing again. 

“Kenori. You seem knowledgeable.”

“Is it knowledge you seek?”

“I am always willing to learn.”

Kenori reappeared, closer, and their eyes met for a moment as they appraised each other. Dooku paused and lowered his blue lightsaber. Kenori offered his hand, palm up.

“I can show you what the path you follow will give you.”

“You’re a Seer.”

“The Force granted me knowledge. I’m willing to share.”

Dooku hesitated, considering the risks against the possible benefits. He turned off his lightsaber, took a step forward, and accepted the hand offered. 

Kenori didn’t hold back. He shared all his memories of Count Dooku during the war, up to his death, and then more: the genocide of the Jedi, the fall of the Republic... 

The man gasped, overwhelmed, and stumbled back, reaching for the wall to steady himself. 

Kenori granted him a moment before asking: “Is that what you wanted from Darth Sidious? War, greater corruption of the Senate, dissolution of the Republic... and ultimately your betrayal?”

“No,” Dooku breathed out, shaking. “No, never. I left the Order to find another way, but not... not like this.” He shook his head and straightened. “But Darth Sidious has power and ideas that—”

“A power that will corrupt you from the inside out. Ideas warped to lure you in. Neither should be trusted.”

Pulling himself together, Dooku considered him. “You’re a Dark Sider, why should I trust you more than him?”

“He’s a Sith. The Dark Side caught him and consumes him. I’m a NightSister. I was born steeped in the Dark Side. I grew among it. I recognize it for what it is, I know how to use it, but it doesn’t _use me_.”

Dooku stepped closer, observing him from head to toe and lingering on his green eyes. “No, it doesn’t,” he confirmed, thoughtful. “Fascinating. Could you share your knowledge?” 

“I could, but I won’t. It isn't yours to use. You’d Fall as surely as you would with Sidious. However…”

“Yes?”

“I could come with you. I wish to leave Dathomir. Your goal to eradicate the corruption of the Republic is a worthy one. I could join you.”

Dooku tilted his head in curious consideration. “As an ally?”

“Yes.”

“Mh… An ally is more attractive than a master,” Dooku said thoughtfully. “I like the sound of it, Kenori. But you have a price.”

“A fair one, I believe. You came with an enemy. He has to leave.”

“Fair enough, indeed. But I have been told you have chased him once before. Do you truly need my help?”

Kenori glanced at the lightsaber he was still holding. “This isn’t Dathomir’s way. Sidious was chased away thanks to larger numbers and surprise. Today, we’ll require your skill to spare lives. You’re a Master duelist, are you not?”

Dooku bowed slightly. “Lead the way.”

Ideally, Dooku and the combined force of the Nightsisters and Nightbrothers would have managed to kill Sidious. That was of course too much to ask.

He ran. Again.

Kenori was helping Dooku sit up despite his injury when they saw the ship rose over the cliffs. Like before, the Sith blindly shot at the landscape, but this time the Nightsisters were expecting it. As one, Kenori among them, they called the magick to their help and shielded their territory.

“Fascinating,” Dooku murmured at the green shield over their head. 

Kenori focused on her grasp of the magick. While its manipulation came to him as easily as using the Force, he was always cautious in its usage, wary of the call of the Dark Side. Thus, it required more concentration from him than from most Nightsisters.

Once the danger was gone, Kenori glanced back at Dooku. Wild had helped him up, supporting his weight.

“I’m afraid that’s my way — our way — out of Dathomir just gone,” Dooku commented with just a hint of displeasure.

“The Force will provide,” Kenori replied confidently, dusting his clothes.

Dooku hummed thoughtfully, considering him with curiosity.

For helping them against the treacherous Sith, Dooku was granted asylum among the Nightbrothers. Kenori went to see him every day, waiting for him at the gates of the village.

“I thought the Nightsisters controlled the Nightbrothers,” Dooku commented as he reached her on the third day. “Can’t you come inside?”

“I can, but it unsettles the Brothers." And Kenori disliked all the bowing and kneeling that ensued. "I might as well spare us all the trouble. Come, I have an idea to bring a ship to us.”

They left for a rocky outcrop offering shade and a beautiful view of the swamps that Kenori favored. 

“Wild still follows us. I thought the Nightbrothers were wary of me at first, but now I wonder if I’m the one who truly interests him,” Dooku commented as they walked. 

"He is a friend."

"Just a friend? He asks about you quite a lot.”

Kenori threw him an unimpressed look. “Leave him be. He’ll change his mind.”

Dooku chuckled. “You underestimate his stubbornness and feelings.”

“Are you satisfied with the Brothers’ hospitality?” Kenori asked to redirect the conversation.

“I have certainly endured worse. They’re eager to duel, although I can’t say I’m very fond of their fighting habits. Is all this violence and blood truly necessary?”

Kenori smiled. It was strange how much he suddenly sought Dooku’s company when he once used to hate him, but his Jedi mindset was a balm to Kenori’s soul, so out of his comfort zone on Dathomir. 

It took a week and a lot of magick, but Kenori managed to divert a pirate ship to their location, and Dooku successfully negotiated passage to his planet of Serenno.

“Wow, wow, you said two. I know how to count, Count —ah, good one. You and them, that makes six.”

Kenori blinked at the Weequay pirate and wondered at his luck: why did he meet all the worst possible people out of his previous life in this new one? Not that Hondo Ohnaka was the worst exactly, but he was a walking headache.

Dooku glanced at the four people tagging along behind Kenori and raised an eyebrow at him. Kenori shrugged. He had said goodbye to his clan, and Asajj had insisted on coming with him. Since the teenager had lost her mother during the fight with Sidious, he didn’t have the will to refuse her. Then, Wild had intercepted them on the way to the ship, with a pack on his shoulder and a stubborn set to his jaw. 

Kenori had sighed. "Wild, I'm leaving for good. You may come back if you want, but I'm not planning on a short journey."

"I know. That's why I'm coming. You need someone to watch your back, Sister."

Kenori made a face and decided that he had tolerated this title long enough. Since he had made his goodbyes to Talzin and she had accepted his departure, he figured he was free from the rules of the clan. "If you wish to come, let me be clear: do not call me Sister. Do not address me as a woman either. I'm Kenori. I wish to be addressed as male," he said, to both his companions.

Asajj raised a disdainful eyebrow and threw him an unimpressed look. Among this culture, choosing to be male was the strangest thing you could do. But she shrugged. "I always knew you were weird."

Wild didn't seem very surprised. He nodded solemnly. "Yes, Kenori."

"Does this mean I can call you brother?"

Savage and Feral came out from behind a rock, and the youngest, only eleven years old, stared at Kenori with hopeful eyes. They both had packs on their shoulders as well. 

"I doubt that Mother Talzin would agree with all three of you leaving," Kenori pointed out.

"We didn't ask," Savage replied, raising his chin defiantly.

Kenori noted their determined expressions and challenging stances. The Nightbrothers were always so submissive to their female counterparts... He would feel bad for letting their first hint of independence go ignored. He relented.

"Very well. We might as well hurry then... and yes, Feral, you may call me brother if you wish."

So, now they were six.

Shaking his head with amusement, Dooku offered Hondo: “Let’s multiply the agreed amount by four then, shall we?”

Hondo pondered that offer but the number of credits must have been high enough. He nodded. “Sure! Welcome aboard! You might have to squeeze together a bit, though. This isn’t a palace, ya know.”

“Three rooms shall be sufficient,” Dooku said.

“Nah, can’t do, I’m afraid. Two is what I—”

Wild stepped forward and bared his teeth. 

Hondo took a step back. “Three, it is.”

Kenori left Dathomir behind. While Ventress made a face at the absence of magick, a weight fell from Kenori's shoulders. He breathed more freely.

Now, his second chance at life truly began.

**Author's Note:**

> I have ideas for a continuation, but this is such a peculiar story that I'll only write it if there is a lot of demand for it... unless my stubborn brain can't move on... hopefully it will now accept to focus on what needs to be written!
> 
> You can find me at: lunaemoth.tumblr.com


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